Everybody Do it WrongSjef Frenken

Neither Jack nor I were to the English
language born. Jack, the anglicized version of his real
name -- Jacques -- grew up speaking French. His parents,
Catholic, sent him to a Protestant Sunday School in rural
Quebec, to learn English. In time he learned to speak it as
well as he does French. He is one of the few people I know
who are not only fully bilingual, but also bi-cultural.

I didn't really learn English until I
came to Canada at the age of 16. Since my French leaves a
lot to be desired, and Jack's knowledge of Dutch is
negligible, we converse perforce in English. (I think Jack
knows a few Dutch words and expressions he picked up in one
of the less savoury areas of Amsterdam on a visit long ago).

Despite all the years we've used English,
it is, in a sense, still a bit foreign to our ears. Which
is why we often notice things in English that don't
particularly jar native English-speakers. I guess it is as
a result of a subconscious parallel comparison with another
language that these irritants tend to show up and stick in
our craw.

Because we are both sensitive to these
linguistic bumps-in-the-road, we spend a good many lunches
discussing the vagaries of English.

A case in point.

"You know," said Jack, "after all these
years I still can't get used to the 'everyone-they' thing."

I said "please elaborate," even though
Jack doesn't need any encouragement to expound on his
favourite topics.

Jack said: "You know, people saying
things like 'everybody has their own way of doing things.'
'Everybody has' is singular; 'their own way' is plural. The
two don't agree. It's an offence against good grammar.
Look how dumb it sounds if you ask for confirmation:
"Everybody has, has they?"

I said "Jack, you're one hundred percent
right. I know from my own children that teachers tell their
grade school pupils not to make that mistake, but then the
teachers go right on doing it themselves. I've heard them
do so at parent-teacher meetings."

Jack said: "Why can't people get it
straight?"

I said "Maybe another case of linguistic
entropy. Not even all that long ago people used to say
'Everybody goes his own way.' But you can't say that
anymore -- politically incorrect: you're using sexist
language. So you either have to say 'everybody goes his or
her own way' (which is a little cumbersome) or 'people go
their own way.' But the public has done its own thing,
regardless of the rules of grammar. So now it is 'everybody
goes their own way.' What still hasn't been decided in
common parlance is how to handle this situation: it would be
correct to say 'everyone knows how to wash himself', but
what people say is 'everyone knows how to wash themselves'
or the really twisted version '...how to wash
themself."

Jack said: "It's really hard on my French
ears. Thank God we have the little word "on" which
gets around that kind of difficulty."

I said "Jack, English used to have the
equivalent of the French 'on' -- one, as in 'one goes
one's own way'. But it's gone now, gone for good."

Jack said: "And I guess, it isn't coming
back. Boo-hoo."

I said "There is a similar word in Dutch
and German. Besides in Dutch nobody gets excited if you say
the equivalent of "everyone goes his own way. It's
understood that it's the simplest way to handle the
problem."

Jack said "maybe we could solve the
sexist language thing by having men say 'everyone goes his
own way' and women say 'everyone goes her own way.'"

I said: "Jack, you know, that's not a bad
solution. Why don't we try injecting that idea into the
language?"

Jack said: "It would be easier if we
could include some women in this project, I mean you and I
can't use the female version."

I said "You're right, we're handicapped
right from the start. If we don't have one or more women
actively involved in this project, it won't have a chance of
succeeding. On the other hand if we get one or more women
involved, it would be difficult to keep you focused."

"There is that," said Jack, effectively
putting an end to that discussion.

Do you feel like taking up this
challenge, dear reader?

Sjef Frenken is a renaissance man: thinker, writer, translator and composer of much music. A main interest, he has many, is setting to music the poetry, written for children, during the Victorian and Edwardian eras. Nimble of mind, Sjef is a youthful retiree and a great-grandfather. Mostly he's a content man, which facilitates his relentless multi-media creativity.